May
by every-holmes-for-every-watson
Summary: "You and I against the world," my voice strains, "that's how it was supposed to be." Sherlock visits John's grave and he speaks to him as if the rest of the world doesn't matter. He doesn't think it does, anyway. Not without his John Watson. Warning: Major Depression.


**Sherlock's POV**

It was May. You loved May because of the spring. "Flowers ends so much suffering," is what you would tell me. My world seems black and grey since you've been gone. It's been one year, three months, six days, and 45 seconds since you left. It's been one year, three months, six days, and 45 seconds since you left. It's been one year, three months, and five days since I last felt your lips touch mine. It's been one year, three months, and two days since we last made love while entangled in our bed sheets. I am alone and I am done running away from the inevitable. There is no world where you are gone. Nothing is relevant, and nothing is worth anything. Sometimes I forget to eat, and surprise myself that you haven't reminded me yet. Then I feel memories wash over me and I shove my fist in my mouth to stifle my sobs. You told me I'd be okay without you, you told me that I could make it through. I tried. I really did. I can't wake up with your side of the bed empty and cold, I can't close my eyes and be haunted by your figure. I can't live like this. I can't.

"My body aches to be laying with yours." My hands clench at my sides and I focus on the clouded sky above me. "My body heat is itching to be shared with yours, to become entwined, and it is a new addiction that haunts me. My arms crave to wrap around you, to take the pain you went through and to give it to me because I deserve it. My lips speak to be reunited with yours, our light touches becoming a great symphony. My tongue yearns to hesitantly touch yours and to feel our wet heat smashing together. But, most of all, I feel myself infinitely wanting to run my fingers through your short blonde hair, to have your atoms connect to mine, to dive myself deep into you and never letting go." Your grave speaks of empty tones, and I slam my eyes shut.

I wish you could speak to me. Anything would sooth this pain at this point. Everything just hurts. I have loved and lost, I have laughed and cried, I have wept the tears of a broken human, a malfunctioned human brutally tortured by the hands of reality and sentiment. My body shows of scars that blossom across my body, a trophy that reads how my body was a canvas for sadness and the tingling feeling of alcohol whom has been there for me when no one else was. The color of the world stripped away and soon I was left in black and white. You were my canvas, you were my sunshine, you were my fresh inhale of love and affection. I witnessed myself disintegrating and I lost my sense of who I was. You shouldn't have died. You shouldn't have left me. I blame myself, everyone, and blame nothing at all. I am numb with sadness and yearning, and I burn with the sensation that I can not and will not be okay this time. You remind me of the world, beautiful, mysterious, and yet filled with sadness and grief. I am trapped within these pale walls and I cannot _breathe. _Your smile is engraved in my heart. Your light kisses scatter within my soul. I feel regret replace my bone marrow. I looked through how so much time could mean so short and small when I look back. It feels like yesterday when you and I made love within our bed sheets, laughing and living within our own world we created. I remember how you always tasted of tea and biscuits, how you would lie and say how you were cutting yourself off when I knew you weren't. That's what I love about you. When I lay down in bed, I imagine you laying next to me, your eyelashes giving butterfly kisses to my cheek. Your sleep filled eyes would fight to stay awake, you always wanted me to be the last thing you see. And when you were withering away in that hospital bed, I still was. When I close my eyes, you become my vision. You become all of I dream, you become the entity that I believe in with my mind and soul. Sleeping is the only time I can recall myself being the closest to being happy again. I want to sleep forever, I don't want to wake up with the iron plate life hands to me. Remember when we would dance to Frank Sinatra late into the night? The stars would be painted high above us, the natural moonlight illuminating the room. You told me how much of an awful dancer I was, but I think you secretly liked it. You taught me of course, but I could never learn. Kisses were shared, missteps were taken and confessions were whispered. We left our impression on the world, I felt as if we could rule it.

"Damn you." I say. I feel saltiness spill into my mouth. When did my cheeks become wet? I taste of bitterness and sorrow. Is it possible to overdose on the simple dosage of retention? "You and I against the world," my voice strains, "that's how it was supposed to be."

The clouds fog above me as if it were taunting.

I don't want to forget anything about you. I don't want to forget how you always laugh at the word 'pudding' because you say it's "such an awful word, that you just can't help it." I don't want to forget how the sunlight bathes your skin in the early morning as you sleep. I don't want to forget your eye crinkles when you laugh so hard that you have to shut your eyes and force yourself to breathe. I don't want to forget the sensations that vibrated down my spine when your fingers would pull through my curls and your fingertips would lightly rub my scalp. I don't want to forget how my fingers gently traced down your skin and I was blessed with the sight of goosebumps bubbling over your skin. I don't want to forget your blue eyes and how much I could lose myself in there. I don't want to forget how you always wanted to live near the ocean and how much I wanted to live that dream with you. I don't want to forget how it felt when we made love and I would feel so much love and ecstasy that I felt like I would explode. Oh, how I love you.

I know nothing will be the same anymore, I know nothing can make me relive the past. But for now, tea, cigarettes, and Frank Sinatra will be my occasional elixir.

"I can't go back to the past," I whisper to you, "but god knows that I'll try forever just to be the closest to seeing your beauty shine again. Can you hear me? I wonder if you can, wherever you are. Do you still like to watch me when I sleep? Where are you?" Sobs erupt from my throat and I don't have the strength to fight them this time. "Can you find me?"

Rain begins to fall and splatter against the ground, drenching me with its sorrowful song.

Perhaps you're crying too.

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_**Please review! Sorry if this gave you any feels, this made me tear up while writing it.** _


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